


surrender, baby

by fragilelittleteacup



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Characters, Come as Lube, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Enthusiastic Consent, Episode: s06e09 Hana Keaka (Charade), Explicit Sexual Content, Filthy, First Time, Gay Feelings, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Not Beta Read, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Public Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Undercover, Undercover as Teacher, i had feelings about teacher!danny okay, specifically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 18:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18744793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilelittleteacup/pseuds/fragilelittleteacup
Summary: Their kiss deepened, Danny licking into Steve’s mouth. He clutched the nape of Steve’s neck, and Steve responded in kind, crowding him up against the desk, palm finding the shape of Danny’s waist, and then–“You handsy son of a bitch,” Danny breathed.





	surrender, baby

Danny was sitting behind his desk, grading papers like he’d been doing this his whole life, head ducked forward as he worked. His hands, moving jerkily at the wrists, a classic mannerism that Steve had become accustomed to, flew over the papers with ease. He mumbled quietly to himself as he processed the answers, reaching absent-mindedly for his coffee cup every now and then, and Steve’s gaze was drawn to his lips, to the tongue that rested between his front teeth. Next, Steve’s attention wandered to those blue eyes, downcast now, obscured by professorial glasses which only helped enhance this near-pornographic scene. His lashes were fine and pale as wheat, and Steve remembered them being clumped with tears when Grace was kidnapped, remembered the way they’d prettily caught the light as Danny gazed out from a deathtrap North Korean helicopter. After everything they’d been through, now they were here. Danny, in a crisp white shirt that clung to the curve of his shoulders and the bulk of his chest, sleeves rolled up above solid forearms. Pretending to be a teacher. Steve, waiting in the doorway, heat fluttering behind his ribcage and pooling in his groin.

They’d been playing with each other for too long. Steve taking control in Danny’s car, hands capable and familiar on the steering wheel, legs spread with deliberate arrogance as Danny became used to his position in the passenger seat. Danny sauntering into Steve’s house whenever he felt like it, making himself breakfast, staking his claim on a home that shouldn’t– wouldn’t, in any other circumstance– belong to him. They flirted with each other’s personal space, pushing, tugging, yielding, arguing. A bullet scar on Danny’s arm, testament to their first case together. Numerous other blemishes and recently-healed wounds telling a story of their relationship, its intensity, and the lengths they would go for each other.

_This is why I love you, buddy._

The words had been exchanged freely so many times, breathed into life by them both. Their first kiss exchanged in a collapsed building, crushed into a coffin, cut off from the rest of the world, a quietly-whimpering Danny seeking comfort in Steve’s bleeding arms. They had both tried to move on, tried to pretend that it was just the heat of the moment, that this near-death situation had been any worse than all the _other_ emergencies that had nearly ended their lives. That had been a lie, though. Melissa? Catherine? Nothing worked. All other trysts ended eventually. They always came back to each other.

And Steve was tired of running at all.

He reached back, closed the office door behind him. Danny jumped, not having realised he was there.

“You sneaky,” Danny threw down his pen, exhaling loudly, “You sneaky little _shit,_ Steven. Scared the hell outta me.”

“Relax,” Steve told him, not matching his bickering tone, letting his voice settle into a lower murmur. He locked the door, and the solid metal _click_ rang through the room loudly. He felt the air change. Saw Danny stiffen out of the corner of his eye.

“…Steve? What’s going on?”

Steve turned away from the door, clenching his fists momentarily. But hesitation had never been a strength of his, so he stepped up to Danny, crossing the room in two determined strides, and forced himself not to wait. Danny went still when Steve kissed him, their lips bumping, brushing in a gentle, soft kiss. Steve lingered there for a moment, not daring to breathe, until Danny gasped quietly against his mouth.

In that moment, fraught with anxiety, Steve suddenly wanted to ask whether Danny actually wanted this because, _fuck,_ he’d been so sure, but Danny _mattered,_ and he didn’t want to risk the most perfect relationship he’d ever been blessed with-

Danny reached up, cupping his face gently, tenderly, like he was afraid Steve would break if he moved too fast. And that very gesture cut to the core of Steve’s soul, splitting him in two, sparking a swell of pain that he couldn’t explain. Danny had seen him broken in ways that no other person had, had seen him tortured and alone and depressed and dying. So, when Danny kissed him, stretching up onto his toes, Steve knew he was being embraced by a person who _saw_ him.

And that was frightening.

But beautiful.

Their kiss deepened, Danny licking into Steve’s mouth. He clutched the nape of Steve’s neck, and Steve responded in kind, crowding him up against the desk, palm finding the shape of Danny’s waist, and then–

“You handsy son of a bitch,” Danny breathed.

Steve chuckled, somewhat light-headed from the suddenness of this, but exhilarated nonetheless. He tightened his grip on Danny’s ass, groping him through smoothly ironed trousers, chest humming with a pulse of arousal when Danny’s next inhalation hitched, tightening the hollow of his throat.

“God, I love you, Danno,” Steve groaned.

“You know I love you too, idiot.” Danny sucked in a heavy breath, a high-pitched blip of voice getting caught in his throat, making him sound much younger than he usually did. “Dirty bastard, you- you get off on this whole teacher getup? You like this?” Danny demanded, sounding shaky and probably far less authoritative than he intended. “Wanted to bend me over this desk, huh?”

“You words, not mine,” Steve’s retort was hushed and spoken into Danny’s mouth, and suddenly he was overwhelmed by the need to get his _hands_ on Danny’s body, to touch him, to embrace him, to _get inside him,_ they’d been dancing around this for _so long,_ making do with hugs and handshakes and longing glances through office windows-

“You want that? You want me to do that to you?”

Danny almost whimpered. “Steve-”

“Tell me no, and we’ll deal with this later, we’ll sort it out, talk it through like adults, but if you want this, right here, right now, just,” Steve kissed him, hungry, fast, rough. “Just turn around.”

Danny was almost panting now, hips canted against Steve’s hard body. His perfect hair was askew, a wave of blond escaped across his forehead, touching his eyebrow. Those glasses were starting to fog up. He planted both palms on the desk behind him, steadied himself, and then slid forward, standing on shaky feet. He could have walked away then, but he didn’t. He turned around, the small of his back curving as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on beside grade papers.

The room was still.

And there was something so erotic about it. About the lack of conversation. About the trust between them that was so deeply established, founded upon years of mutual love, that Danny was going to let himself be _fucked_ without so much as a discussion first. The power that rested in Steve’s hands was amazing, unbelievable, and surreal.

He unzipped his fly.

Danny took a shaky breath, because that sound meant only one thing. His head dropped down, forehead touching onto the desk, hair hanging.

Submission.

Steve took out his cock, heat boiling beneath his skin. He didn’t even bother properly taking his pants off. He undid Danny's trousers, intoxicated by the freedom to jerk Danny’s belt free and move that slender waist however he pleased, touch Danny’s _body_ however he wanted. Free to use. Free to _take._

Danny’s ass was smooth, fine blond hairs on pale skin. Steve fisted his cock, the slick sound filthy and primal.

Yeah. Yeah, they were _doing this_.

 

***

 

He massaged his way inward, fucking Danny with his fingers and his hands, stroking him, pinching him, preparing him. Danny was a shivering, dripping, flushed mess by the time Steve pressed the head of his cock up against that smooth hole. He pushed in, slow. Danny’s breathing was ragged, heavy with whimpers, lips pressed shut as he tried to keep his voice down. They were here well after closing, but there could still be cleaners around, still be staff wandering the halls. It turned Steve on, to imagine them being caught. To imagine what they looked like. Danny, bent over a desk, cock leaking against his stomach, smearing sticky wetness on his shirt, about to be penetrated for the first time.

Within no time at all, Steve was inside his partner.

Danny was panting, shoulders heaving, a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten. The blunt, unexpected pressure of a cock entering him was making him shudder, a feeling he’d never before experienced. When he reached down and pressed a hand against his stomach, he could feel the suggestion of a bulge there, the indentation of Steve's cock. It was indescribable, the sensation of vulnerability, how connected they were. They were having sex. Here, now. Dust motes moved in the air, caught by the warm glow of overhead bulbs. The clock on the wall ticked. A bead of sweat moved down Danny's temple, dampening his cheek. Steve's body pressed up against his back, lips at his ear, elegant fingers reaching around to hold his jaw. A peck on the lobe of his ear, such a small thing, the tiniest display of love. Almost innocent, except for the pressure inside, the warmth filling him up, the wonderful defilement he'd been dreaming about for so long.

This moment was one that they'd never forget.

“Does it hurt?” Steve whispered, voice breaking the stillness. “Danny?”

“Feel like a whore,” Danny groaned in response, sounding broken, “God, Steve, I feel- No guy my age should be feeling this way, it’s like I’m a goddamn teenager again, like I’ve never-”

“You like it?”

“ _Yes_ , you smartass, I-” Danny cried out, tried to muffle the sound by biting into his fist, when Steve yanked his hips back, pulling out almost completely, before thrusting forward again. “Yeah,” Danny gasped, “Yes, fuck, please, _please,”_

Steve started to fuck him. Properly. He yanked Danny back to meet every thrust, a punishing grip on his hips, loving the mangled cries Danny made every time. Skin slapping against skin, his body flush against the curve of Danny’s ass, come dripping down the inside of Danny’s legs. He took Danny’s tie in hand, wrapped it around his knuckles, and pulled it tight. Not hard enough to choke Danny, just enough to make him stutter, make his cheeks pink.

The desk clattered, a pen holder tipping on its side, pencils falling off the desk. The coffee cup rocked in place, but thankfully did not roll off the edge. The grade papers shifted with every brutal thrust. There would be time later, time to be gentle and caring and slow and loving, but this wasn’t that time. This was about violence, about sex, about _aggression._ This was about answering the need they both felt, ending their history of unresolved sexual tension with risky public fucking.

So, Steve kept going. He pumped his hips back and forth, pressing a brief kiss to Danny’s temple. A promise. A gesture of devotion in the midst of this carnal fury. _I’ll still be here when we’re done,_ the kiss said, _I love you, I always have._

He straightened up. Took hold of Danny’s waist.

Fucked him harder than he’d ever fucked anybody else.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Chuck us a comment if you enjoyed this fic, I may write more.


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